


The Highest Tower

by SableR



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, Porn with Feelings, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Sensory Deprivation, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableR/pseuds/SableR
Summary: Byleth couldn't sleep, and her feet took her to the highest tower of the Imperial Palace, lonely and distant. Below her, the palace was still a flurry of activity, though it was well past midnight. Outside, neat rows of canvas tents dotted the grounds. Every now and then, she paused to listen...and pretended not to notice the person shadowing her steps.***The Kingdom has won the war...and with the even greater challenge of winning the peace upon them, Byleth and Felix find some peace of their own. Major spoilers for Azure Moon's ending, takes place after Chapter 22.





	1. Chapter 1

The Imperial Palace of Enbarr felt cavernous, even with the Kingdom army swarming over the building and grounds. Before her last stand, Edelgard had gutted the place. Walls were gone, elegant music rooms hastily converted into barracks, and locked chests of dubious origin filled every corner. Rough boards covered the beautiful stained glass windows, and more than a few were in pieces from Kingdom ballistae.

Byleth couldn't sleep, and her feet took her to the highest tower of the Imperial Palace, lonely and distant. Below her, the palace was still a flurry of activity, though it was well past midnight. Outside, neat rows of canvas tents dotted the grounds. Every now and then, she paused to listen...and pretended not to notice the person shadowing her steps.  
  
Her footfalls echoed as she climbed, sore ribs complaining with each step. The door at the top of the tower was locked, but that made little difference to her. She fished Ashe's lockpicks out of her jacket, and gently eased it open.  
  
The door groaned softly, revealing a small observatory. By some miracle, it had survived the earlier bombardment. She smelled dust, paper, and ink...much like the library at Garreg Mach. Large cushioned benches ringed the room, with squashy pillows haphazardly thrown about. If she ignored the army crates stacked beneath the telescope, this place almost looked untouched by the war.  
  
Shrugging her bedroll from her shoulders, Byleth collapsed on one of the benches with a soft sigh. She looked up at the starlight pouring through the glass, wondering if Edelgard had come here to find some quiet amidst the chaos. She would never get the chance to ask.  
  
She waited for a few minutes, but heard and saw nothing. After making herself comfortable on the bench, she called out, "Come in, Felix."  
  
Sharp-eyed and silent, Felix appeared in the doorway. He eased the door shut with a soft creak.

"You knew it was me."

She chuckled softly, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him. "Only you and Ashe are that quiet, and Ashe would never follow me without asking."  
  
Felix frowned. "You shouldn't be roaming the Palace, not before the soldiers finish searching it. We don't know how many monsters Edelgard's mages cooked up."  
  
"I couldn't sleep with everything going on below," she admitted.  
  
His eyes softened, and he sat down at the foot of the bench. "Don't know why you bothered. You won't be able to sleep up here either."  
  
She didn't have an answer for that, and he knew it. Her body cried for rest, and her battle wounds still ached. But every time she closed her eyes, she jolted awake after only a few hours, convinced that she was needed somewhere, that yet another battle called for her. Felix was the same. On most nights, they'd found themselves awake before dawn, with nothing to do but cross swords away from the still-sleeping camp.  
  
A bottle clinked, followed by the glug of liquid poured into a tin cup. Felix pushed it into her hands. Without even thinking, Byleth took a sip.  
  
"...it's tea."  
  
"Of course it's tea," said Felix, pouring himself a cup. "What else would it be?"  
  
She took her time with the second sip. The tea was lukewarm, but fragrant and sharply bitter, without a hint of sugar or cream...just how Felix liked it. It was also how Jeralt had made tea when she was a child, and the thought brought a smile to her face. "Thank you."  
  
"It's nothing compared to your tea back at the monastery. Finish it."  
  
He drained his cup, setting the half-empty bottle down on the abandoned observatory desk, and turned to go. But he hadn't taken two steps before Byleth caught him by the wrist. He tensed under the leather gloves, his other hand darting instinctively for his sword. Anyone else would've lost fingers trying that with him.  
  
Slowly, he let go of the pommel of his sword, the spring-tight tension easing from his shoulders. He turned and stared at her, sharp amber eyes unfathomable in the pale starlight.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked testily. "You're in no shape to spar, and neither of us are getting any sleep."  
  
Byleth felt her cheeks burn. What _was_ she doing? "We could drink tea. Watch the sunrise over Enbarr. I don't know..." She trailed off, letting her fingers slip... only to feel Felix's hand tighten on hers.  
  
His eyes went wide, and he was just as surprised as she. But he didn't let go. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers, one at a time, eyes never leaving her face. Dark leather slid against her bare skin, and she felt her breath catch.  
  
"Felix—"  
  
He moved in a flash of blue, kneeling beside her with his other hand pressed lightly against her lips. "Shut up," he whispered. His fingers trembled against her mouth.  
  
"I don't want more tea, and I don't give a damn about the stupid sunrise." His hand slid to her chin, and she looked up into the face she knew so well, sharp lines and furrowed brow softened by the flush coloring his cheeks. "I—"  
  
Byleth heard the doubt creeping into his voice, saw the uncertain glimmer in his eyes, and she wasn't going to give him time to second-guess. She kissed his fingers, tasting sword oil and metal in the leather.   
  
Felix shivered from head to toe. "Do you even know you're doing?"   
  
"Yes," she answered, smiling up at him. "And so do you."  
  
His answering kiss was hungry, messy, his mouth hot and desperate on hers, gloved hands reaching for every inch of her that he could touch. He buried his hands in her hair, and gasped when she nipped at his lower lip. He was so _fast_, even when tangled up with her. Before she could catch her breath, he had her pinned to the bench, legs straddling hers.  
  
Felix pulled back, lips flushed and eyes wild. He tore off his gloves, throwing them carelessly aside, and slid his bare hands under her tunic. But when he felt the bandages around her ribs, he froze. "You're still hurt," he said, looking away. "This is a terrible idea."  
  
Byleth reached up and gently tugged his hair loose, letting it fall around his face. Long dark strands fell over her fingers as she cupped his cheek, tilting his face toward her.  
  
"I trust you, Felix."  
  
He blinked at her, completely at a loss for words. Slowly, he turned his face into her touch. "You're a fool," he murmured, each harsh word followed by a fleeting kiss. "Such. A. Damn. Fool."  
  
"You're the one who followed a fool through hell and back."  
  
Felix laughed, the first real laugh she'd heard from him in weeks. It eased the lines around his eyes and mouth, giving her a glimpse of the man he might've been without five soul-crushing years of war. Still smiling, he leaned in for another kiss. He cradled her face in his hands, relishing the taste of her, and the sounds she made when his lips found the hollow of her throat.  
  
_I love you_.  
  
She knew Felix wouldn't say it, and she didn't care. She felt it in every fiber of her being, in the careful, deliberate way he unlaced her tunic, in his trembling hands on her bare skin. So when he kissed her over her heart, at first she thought nothing of his soft gasp. But his surprise soon gave way to puzzlement, then shock. He scrambled to grab her hand, feeling for her pulse.  
  
Byleth held her breath, closed her eyes, and said nothing. She waited for him to pull away, waited to hear footsteps leaving the room. Instead, she felt Felix's arms lifting her up. He sat up with her head resting on his chest, against his own steadily beating heart. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, and she turned away, hiding her face.  
  
Felix, ever the contrarian, was having none of that. "Hey, stop that." He rubbed her back, fingers falling into the rhythm he used to soothe sore muscles. "Just tell me what's going on."  
  
It would be so easy to tell him the truth. Felix, who never shied from the harsh strange ironies of the world. Felix, who cared not for gods or monsters, except whether he could slay them. And yet...  
  
"You might not believe me," she whispered.  
  
_You might leave_.  
  
It had been her greatest fear when she first read Jeralt's diary, and it still haunted her. Being different was one thing. Being abandoned by her friends, the only family she had left...that was something else entirely. But Felix merely scoffed irritably and flicked her on the forehead. Startled, she opened her eyes to see his worried scowl.  
  
"_I_ followed _you_, remember? So whatever's going on in your head, just say it! Otherwise, it'll devour you whole." His scowl deepened, though his arms tightened around her. "You think I want to watch that happen to you too?"  
  
Byleth shook her head. "Don't worry. My situation isn't like Dimitri's. It's... I'm not sure what to make of it."  
  
Felix's sigh stirred her hair. "Go on."  
  
The whole story spilled out after that. All the little bits and pieces that she'd put together in the wake of Jeralt's death, and from her careful questioning of Seteth during the war. Felix listened in silence, his face inscrutable.  
  
As soon as she was done, his hand wandered to her heart, feeling the warmth through her bandages. "I don't give a damn," he said flatly. "But thanks for telling me anyway."  
  
Byleth blinked up at him. "Really?" Most people _would_ give a damn upon being told such a strange tale. A baby with no heartbeat, a man who never aged, an archbishop who kept too many secrets...  
  
"Rhea meddled with you, and Jeralt kept the truth from you. That's _their _fault, not yours." He rubbed his thumb over the old training scars on her hands, at least a few inflicted by his own sword.  
  
"You're still you, and I'm me," he continued. "The rest doesn't matter."  
  
She chuckled, blinking away what remained of her tears. "As clear-eyed as ever," she said fondly. She ran her fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter shut. "What would I do without you?"  
  
"Pfft. Don't ask dumb questions."  
  
Maybe it _was_ pointless to ask...after all, she knew the answer. Felix was her rock, her shield, her cornerstone of stability through all the grief and blood and toil. And after his father's death, she'd been the same for him. She kissed his cheek, felt him shiver all around her. He buried his nose in her hair, leaning back on the bench with her half on top of him.

"Get some sleep," he whispered.

"I thought you couldn't sleep."  
  
He mumbled something she couldn't hear, tucking his cloak over them both. The last thing she felt before her eyes closed was Felix's lips against her forehead, and his breath in her hair.

* * *

The next day, Rhea asked to see her in private. Felix was having none of it, and he trailed Byleth the whole way across the Imperial Palace grounds. He had his swords with him, the Aegis Shield on his arm, his eyes darting every which way as if he expected trouble at any moment.

It would've been funny under other circumstances. Byleth stopped outside the large tent where Rhea was convalescing. She had to make one last attempt to talk some sense into Felix, even if it wouldn't work. Once Felix got an idea into his head, he was even worse than Dimitri.

"Felix—"

"Stop. I have nothing to say to Rhea, but you can't expect me to leave you alone with her. Not after what you told me last night."

Byleth frowned at him. "I'm not a baby, and Rhea's been imprisoned for years. I could stop her if she tried anything—"

"Don't." The quiet pain in his voice stopped her cold. "Don't even joke about it." He stepped around her, putting himself between her and Rhea's tent.

Byleth sighed. She would've been _more_ worried if Felix had backed down easily. "If you have nothing to say to her, keep quiet. Seteth said she's still in pretty bad shape."

Felix nodded, and she lifted the tent flap, with Felix following close behind her. His hand never left the hilt of his sword.

It was surprisingly bright and warm inside. Soft, scented candles and incense mingled in the closed space, reminding her forcefully of Rhea's room back at the monastery. Rhea herself lay propped up on a massive pile of silken pillows, covered in a mismatched hodgepodge of blankets. She really did look awful—deathly pale and haggard, with none of her former air of imperturbable grace. But she opened her eyes and stirred when she heard their footsteps approaching.

Catherine stood guard at her bedside. The moment she saw Felix, her hand jumped to Thunderbrand's hilt.

"The archbishop told you to come alone," said Catherine.

Felix didn't answer, but tension crackled as he and Catherine sized each other up. Byleth hastily stepped in between them. She was sure Felix could best even Catherine and her famous sword, but she really didn't want them dueling in Rhea's tent.

The three of them looked at Rhea, and the archbishop's old smile flitted across her face. "It warms my heart to see such loyalty." Her voice sounded strange, cracking over the vowels like dying flame. "Come closer, dear child. Let me see your face."

Catherine slowly let go of Thunderbrand and stepped aside, though she and Felix kept glaring daggers at each other. With some reluctance, Byleth approached the pile of pillows and blankets. Rhea reached for her hand, and Byleth had to repress a shudder. The archbishop felt cold, but her grip was still as strong as iron, and she pulled Byleth closer. 

"All that was mine...is now yours," whispered Rhea. "I know you will lead them well."

Byleth froze, feeling like she'd just been dunked in cold water.

"As for me...have I not earned my rest? I have faith in you, dear child." Rhea closed her eyes, slumped back on her pillows, and fell silent once more.

Byleth waited, but when Rhea said nothing else, she pried her fingers from the archbishop's grip and straightened. She stared down at the woman who'd meant so much, done so much to so many...and felt nothing but a distant sense of disappointment. "Is that all, archbishop?"

Rhea's eyes opened once more. She looked not at Byleth, but at Catherine and Felix standing behind her, and shutters seemed to close behind her pale green eyes.

"That is all."

Byleth turned on her heel and marched out of the tent, Felix at her side. She didn't stop until she stood at the very edge of the Imperial Palace, looking up at the mangled iron gates that she'd helped smash open. The bitter disappointment surged in her throat like bile, and her hands balled into fists.

"She was supposed to have _answers_. And instead, she just handed me all her problems." She knew she was being petulant, and didn't particularly care at the moment. She'd spent most of her life completely ignorant of the Church of Seiros, and now she was supposed to lead them? Lead them where? To what, after so much bloodshed and hatred?

"You should be used to it by now."

_"What?"_ She rounded on Felix, ready to be furious with him, and found nothing but quiet sympathy in his eyes.

"My family, Dimitri's family, Edelgard...they're all dead. They all left us with messes to clean up. How is Rhea any different?" 

"Well, she isn't dead yet."

"She may as well be," said Felix coldly. "You'll be happier if she's dead to you. It's better than driving yourself mad over what she could've said or done."

Trust Felix to say what she needed to hear, exactly when she didn't want to hear it. Only a few days ago, life had seemed straightforward, if perilous. Defeat Edelgard, end the war, crown Dimitri...but she hadn't thought much beyond that. She hadn't had the luxury of thinking about the future. Now that she had to...

"You'll be a good archbishop," said Felix.

Somehow, that seemed unlikely. "I grew up outside the church, and I never quite believed in it. I don't know the first damn thing about being an archbishop."

"You do." Felix ran his fingers through his bangs, watching her with an odd mix of fondness and exasperation. "I remember when Rhea sent us after Lonato and Miklan. You hated her for it. Even then, you cared more about us than some stupid doctrine."

"What? How did you know?" That had been a long time ago, before she'd started showing much of any emotion. 

Felix laughed. "The way you swing your sword. It didn't show on your face, but you were seething for days."

"Oh." It seemed stupidly obvious when he put it like that. She'd learned to read Felix from how he sparred with her; it made perfect sense that he'd learned the same from her.

"_Oh_." He rolled his eyes at her. "You're so dense! The point is that you care about protecting _people_, not what they believe or where they were born. Don't you think the Church needs an archbishop like that?"

She couldn't really argue with that. Even now, she thought about all the things she'd let lapse during the war. The complicated calendar of ceremonies and rituals had been abandoned, except for the major Saints' days. The knights no longer hunted heretics, and she was pretty sure the Church hadn't consistently collected donations in years. Most of that was out of sheer pragmatism, as she bent every last ounce of their combined strength toward winning the war. But now...why not let the bloody past wither and die? 

"I'm not ready for it," she admitted.

"So what? Dimitri isn't ready to be king. I'm not ready to rule Fraldarius territory...or what's left of it." He stepped a little closer to her. They weren't touching, but she could feel his warmth, hear his even breathing.

"Besides, you won't be stumbling through it alone." A few bright spots of color appeared on his cheeks, but he kept talking. "You can't get rid of me that easily...archbishop."

She winced at the title, knowing she'd have to get used to it eventually. "Don't call me that. It sounds so weird coming from you."

He bumped his shoulder against hers. "Byleth."

Hearing her name in his low, soft voice did _things_ to her imagination, extremely distracting things that she really did not need right now. Felix's eyes met hers, and she knew he was thinking along the same lines. He looked away, blushing furiously, and she felt her own cheeks burn.

"We should find Dimitri," she said, trying to wrestle her traitorous brain back in line. "He'll need to know."

Felix nodded, and they headed back to the tangle of army tents in companionable silence, deliberately not looking at each other. But her mind just would not cooperate, feeding her fresh, sharp memories of Felix's lips on hers, his hands in her hair, the bitter taste of tea on his tongue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive feedback is always appreciated! This two-part fic is me working through some Felix feels, and fleshing out the ending of Azure Moon, because I think it left some pretty important plot threads dangling.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner that night was torturous.

The news of Rhea appointing her archbishop spread like wildfire. Everywhere Byleth went, in either the Imperial Palace or the army camp, people wanted to congratulate her. As if being archbishop and cleaning up Rhea's mess was something she'd wanted, as if her mind hadn't been reeling all day, worrying about the mountain she had to climb. She wanted to disappear and be left alone, but that wasn't a luxury she'd had for months. So she nodded along with the good wishes and kind words, saying as little as she could.

It was Dimitri who rescued her. The prince caught her eye across the crowded mess tent, over the tumult of Alois suggesting a toast to their new archbishop. Byleth couldn't see any way out of it, but Dimitri promptly left his place in the mess line, marched over, and cleared his throat.

"Pardon me, Alois, but the toast will have to wait. I need to speak with the professor. It is a matter of some urgency."

It was a transparent excuse, and Dimitri was a terrible liar, but she appreciated it nonetheless as he steered her out of the mess tent. The crush of people around her parted in his wake, and he led her outside into the cool evening air. No one would disturb them; even now, with the war over and Dimitri's worst months behind them, no one dared interrupt the prince and his professor. They kept walking until they reached the ruined Palace gardens, the chatter of the camp far behind them.

Byleth breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you, Dimitri."

"You're welcome, Professor. I couldn't just stand there and watch." He ran a hand through his hair, watching her closely. "If you wished to name Seteth archbishop instead, I wouldn't blame you in the slightest."

She shook her head. "No. Could you step down from being king?"

"...no. I suppose not."

"There are changes I want to see, and it'll be easier to achieve if I _am_ the archbishop." Felix's words from earlier were slowly working their way into her mind, making more sense the more she mulled them over. "Besides, I'll be able to help you."

Dimitri smiled a little, a shadow of his old one, but a smile nonetheless. "You'll have to crown me first. How strange is that?"

She was doing her best not to think about any of that. Ever since she'd reawakened, it felt like the ground kept shifting under her feet.

"Dimitri, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Neither do I. We fought so hard to end the war, and yet I find myself clinging to these last few days of army life." He looked up at the stars overhead and sighed. "I know this pattern of fighting and marching and toil. It's familiar to me. And now..."

She knew Dimitri's moods almost as well as her own by now, and she gently squeezed his hand. "I'll help," she said. He needed the reminder every now and then.

"I know. On that topic, I..." He let go of her hand and looked away, suddenly ill-at-ease. "Professor, I feel as if I've done you a disservice."

She raised an eyebrow at him. This was news, at least to her. "Go on."

"I asked Felix to take up his father's titles and responsibilities. But if you would rather have Felix at Garreg Mach with you, I completely understand."

Byleth stared at him, feeling her cheeks flush a little—and burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. It was such an outlandish thing to say, after the day she'd had, after everything else that was happening. She laughed so hard she nearly choked, leaning on a stunned Dimitri for support.

"Are you serious?" she gasped between her giggles. "_That_ was worrying you?"

He frowned, his ears turning quite pink. "Professor, I...I don't know what to say to that." His frown deepened, and he stared down at his feet. "Did I...misread Felix's feelings for you? He hardly leaves your side these days."

"Oh. Oh!" Belatedly, it all clicked in her head. Byleth took a few deep breaths, trying to quickly compose herself. "No, you're, um, you're right about that."

Dimitri suddenly looked far too pleased with himself for her liking. "Ah, I thought so. You're...actually blushing, Professor."

She tried to glare at him, but she wasn't at all intimidating while blushing from head to toe. "Anyway," she said hastily, "I'm sorry for laughing at you. I don't think Felix's inheritance will be a problem. It's still...um, too early to worry about that."

That last sentence came out in a messy mumble, and now it was Dimitri's turn to laugh at her. "You look different when you're blushing," he said, studying her face. "Less...hmm...less untouchable."

Byleth groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Thanks," she mumbled. She'd never have believed it—the earnest but stumbling prince teasing her over Felix. But perhaps it was worth her embarrassment to hear Dimitri laugh again, and she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him.

"Professor?"

She reluctantly looked back up at him. "Yes?"

Dimitri didn't meet her eyes. "I admit...I feel a little selfish, knowing how much I must ask from both you and Felix in the days to come."

"Dimitri..." she began, but he held up his hand and carried on.

"Please, just let me thank you. I know I will always need help, and I'm no longer ashamed to ask for it. Still, I want you to know that should you ever need anything from me, I will jump at the call. You have my word as king...and as your friend."

She resisted the urge to hug him; Dimitri was still uncomfortable with such overt affection from anybody. Instead, she beamed with pride at the prince whom she'd led through so much, feeling some of her worries ease. The mountain they had to climb didn't seem so insurmountable now.

* * *

Byleth made her way back up to the tower observatory that evening. She was tired and drained from all the talking, but in better spirits after Mercedes told her she could remove her bandages. She smiled when she saw flickering light spilling down the steps from the open door. 

Felix was already waiting for her, without his armor, though his swords remained at his side. He practically jumped to his feet when she eased the door shut behind her and bolted it. A single lantern flickered beneath the large telescope. Felix stripped off his gloves and unbuckled his weapons as he strode toward her, stopping just a few inches away.

For a long, tense moment, he just _stared_ at her, as if seeing her for the first time. His lips parted, words caught in his throat before he gave up. Felix's hands, so practiced and confident on the battlefield, trembled as he pulled the headband from her hair.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"What? Why?"

He scowled at her, his blush growing fiercer by the moment. "Just do it! I can't think when you stare at me like that!"

Byleth laughed softly and unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. "All right. If you insist." She did want to see him; Felix was beautiful to watch, precise and perfect in everything he did. But for tonight, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse.

She didn't have to wait for long. She felt Felix's hands around her wrists; he moved one slow, deliberate step at a time, until she felt her back against the cold stone wall. His lips met her throat, teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. He kissed his way to her collarbone, unpracticed but so fervent.

"Felix—" she gasped.

"Shh." His warm breath ghosted over her throat, his fingers suddenly on her lips. "Hold still. Let me do it."

The unspoken words rang in her mind, as clearly as if he'd screamed them for all to hear.

_Let me take care of you._

She gave in. When they sparred, she made Felix fight for every inch. But now, giving in to him was effortless. She let herself lean against his chest, trusting him to support her. She felt rather than heard the soft rumble of his laughter. One hand let go of her wrists and trailed down her arms.

"All that time," he murmured. "All I had to do was ask."

Byleth's eyes flew open, and the fragile moment evaporated. "All that time?" she said without thinking.

Felix stared defiantly back at her; the lantern light blazed in his eyes. "You knew," he whispered. "Or if you didn't, you could've guessed."

He was right, and she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to regret the time they'd lost, the nights they could have spent together, the peace they might've stolen out from the jaws of war. Instead, she closed her eyes and kissed him, the softest brush of her lips on his. Felix shivered and pressed her against the wall, his hips flush with hers, his heart pounding like a hammer.

"Keep your eyes closed this time."

She did, and he used it to take his time with her. She heard the creak of leather as he undid her belt, felt every piece of clothing that slid off her body. She fidgeted restlessly when Felix pushed her tights down to her ankles, heard the laughter in his voice when he finally broke the silence.

"You're impatient. Not what I expected."

"I'm going to pay you back for this later."

His hands stopped moving, resting lightly on her hips. "I know. I'm counting on it."

Byleth shivered, torn between doing as he'd asked and turning the tables on him. But he must've guessed what she was thinking, because he didn't even give her the chance to make up her mind. Felix's hand slipped between her legs, and any coherent thoughts evaporated.

Gentle. It wasn't something she associated with Felix, but he was so gentle, so careful as he slid a finger inside her and began to move. She reached for him blindly; his free hand caught both of hers, pinning her hands up over her head.

"I've got you," he murmured. "Tell me what you want."

She did, in a litany of gasps and moans and whispers of his name. Felix swore softly when she pushed her hips against his palm, urging him to move faster. She _needed_ more, every nerve in her body crying out for his touch. He kissed his way along her shoulder and neck, each gentle nip of his teeth sending shockwaves through her.

"Ah! Felix—"

"More?" he asked, voice rough now around the edges.

"Everything."

She didn't stop to think about what that could mean, and neither did he. She felt him fumbling with his own clothes, trying to undo his pants while touching her. It didn't work. There was the distinct snap of thread coming loose, followed by Felix's swearing, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. They could laugh about this later, together.

"Felix?" she asked, eyes still closed. "Will you let me help you now?"

"Just give me a moment."

Cool air hit her skin as he let her go and stepped away completely. She leaned against the cold stone, inching her own fingers along the inside of her thigh. She heard Felix's sudden intake of breath when she touched herself, replacing his fingers with her own. Leather creaked, and she heard the distinct sound of fabric hitting the floor before he caught her wrist and stopped her.

"Here." He braced his hands under her thighs. She felt his cock press against her, finally, _finally_, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He smothered her gasp with a fierce kiss, shifting his weight until he slid inside her. 

There was nothing gentle in him now, no deliberate pace, no careful teasing. She'd asked him for everything, and she braced herself against the wall as he gave himself to her, pushing into her over and over again. His lips and teeth were everywhere, pressed against her neck, nipping at her shoulder, leaving marks that would certainly bruise along the pale skin of her throat. Byleth held on to his shoulders, heard him hiss when she dug her nails into his back.

"Byleth," he whispered. "Fuck, _Byleth—"_

She was already close from his earlier teasing, and she came apart at the sound of her name on his lips. She stifled her cries against his neck, her whole body shaking as she rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Felix gasped, and she opened her eyes in time to see his own eyes flutter shut, his lips parted in a silent prayer as he came inside her with a shiver. He was still for a long moment, his arms and shoulders shaking from the strain of holding her up. But there was something else in the way he clung to her, a desperate and almost painful relief that brought tears to her eyes.

"I've got you," she said. She let her legs drop, and Felix slumped against her with a sigh. His hair had come loose, and she gently pushed the strands aside, pressing her forehead against his.

Slowly, Felix's breathing steadied, and his hands relaxed. Eyes still closed, he asked, "Are you going to pay me back later?"

She laughed, exhausted and flushed and overcome with the sheer joy of having him so close. Felix opened his eyes, grinning right back at her.

"Sure," she said, kissing the tip of his nose. "But for now, I think we should sleep."

Somehow, they managed to clean themselves up and stumble to the bench from the night before. Somehow, Felix had even remembered to bring his bedroll and blankets. He curled himself around her, as he'd done last night, with both of them gazing through the tower observatory's glass dome at the stars.

Tomorrow, there would be the whole wide world to face. Tonight, her entire world was Felix, and that was more than enough.


End file.
